Every Year
by Hyaenaa
Summary: It's Peter's birthday and, as excited as he is, he finds that his enthusiasm isn't shared by all of his teammates. Namely Rocket, who has never celebrated a birthday before. Peter's going to fix that!
1. Chapter 1

**Every Year: Part One**

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><p>Peter's entire face was alight with a cheesy grin, from the moment he went to bed at night til the next morning. He'd been looking forward to today for the last 365 days, which compromised an entire Terran year - not that the rest of the guardians would know that. Except maybe Rocket, who was well versed in primarily useless facts.<p>

That was the thing about Rocket; he was a plethora of bizarre knowledge. Not anything particularly useful unless an incredibly specific situation were to arise, but simply things he'd picked up from his trek throughout the galaxy. Not to say he wasn't full of useful knowledge as well, but some of the things he knew of seemed to be unnecessary.

Like that Drax sat down to pee.

How Rocket discovered that, Peter wasn't entirely sure, and had no interest in finding out.

All (or most) thoughts of Rocket aside, however, Peter was ecstatic. Blasting his music at full volume and effectively waking up the remaining guardians, Peter danced his way into the common area, mouthing the lyrics as he went.

"For the sake of our eardrums and _sanity_, Quill, turn that d'ast racket down!" Snarled the decidedly peeved tone of Rocket as he meandered into the main room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

A gentle yawn escaped Gamora's mouth as she too approached, her hair an alluring mess. "I do like getting up early," her voice came out smooth yet rigid with exhaustion. "But I don't like when it's to this song. At least put on the one that the tree enjoys, Star-lord."

Peter's lips tugged into a fresh grin. Being called by his outlaw name was something he enjoyed, and Gamora knew that. "You'll never guess what today is."

"Drive-us-all-to-want-to-throttle-you day? Because that ain't nothin' special, Quill." Rocket tugged at his ears in growing fury. "Turn it _down!_"

"I too find the volume of Marvin Gaye's voice unnecessary," Drax concurred, brandishing a blade that he'd been polishing apparently the night before as he entered the room.

Without verbally responding, Peter moonwalked backwards to push the dial so that the volume was at an acceptable level. He glanced over to Rocket in hopes that it appeased his friend, only to find that unfortunately Rocket was rubbing his temples in the way that he did when he got a headache. Oops.

"What is so important about today?" Gamora inquired, pulling open one of the kitchen drawers to gather some pans and utensils.

To her side, Drax opened up the fridge of the Milano to pull out some vegetables and began to mince them. Rocket watched them work in unison with crossed arms; Peter could tell that he was a bit angry about being banned from cooking. But hey, they couldn't risk him catching his tail on fire again, or deciding that washing his hands wasn't important and therefore giving all of them food poisoning.

"Today's my birthday!" Peter clasped his hands together in excitement.

"Birthday," Drax repeated, as though the word was foreign to him. "You gave birth today? I... Did not know that male Terrans-"

"Oh my God no," Peter interrupted, wincing at the very thought.

Before he could elaborate, Rocket intervened with a sneer. "A birthday is some humie holiday. They celebrate the day that they popped out of their mommy's vagina like, every year, or somethin' stupid like that."

Gamora perked up at this, cracking two eggs into a pan as Drax swiveled around her to place spices and vegetables over them.

"I recognize this tradition. On my home planet, we did something similar." She responded, and there was a moment of nostalgic agony that flitted through her eyes.

"I do not understand," Drax's brows furrowed. "All Terrans were born on the same day?"

"No you idiot-" Rocket snapped. "It's them celebratin' how old they are!"

"Oh," Drax seemed to entirely ignore the insult directed at him. "I understand now. My people were accustomed to a similar ceremony. Why did you not explain this way to begin with, furry beast?"

Rocket threw up his hands in exasperation, looking like he was about ready to leave. Peter rested a hand on his shoulder, which was immediately swiped away, even if it did seem to sate his friend for the moment.

"_Anyway_," Peter continued on. "Today is my birthday. I was thinkin' maybe we could celebrate it somehow! What do you guys wanna do?"

"What does one do for the Terran birthday tradition?" Drax asked, peering over as he flipped the omelettes he and Gamora had prepared while she began to fetch plates.

"Well," Peter cleared his throat, not wanting his holiday to sound selfish by any means. "I've never really done it the normal way, since I didn't completely grow up on Terra. But, back there, people would give the birthday kid some presents, and then everyone would sing and eat cake together... Not that the presents part is necessary, but..."

For a moment as he trailed off, memories of more innocent, childish times flashed before his eyes. His mother, with a full head of hair, her hands on his shoulders as she encouraged him to blow out the candles. His grandfather, setting out a small gift on the table as he pat his back with a proud grin.

His reminiscing was interrupted by Rocket snorting and blatantly rolling his eyes. "Sounds stupid to me. Plus, you already got the singin' part down, not that you's any good at it."

Peter had learned, over the last several months of living with Rocket, to not take his insults to heart, being that most of them weren't really aimed to hurt. And even the ones that were, well... One look at Rocket's cute little ears and his big black eyes, and how could anyone _really_ be that mad?

"Oh come on, Rocket." Peter grinned with good cheer. "Haven't you ever celebrated a birthday of your own?"

Gamora and Drax exchanged a look as they both set the plates on the table, each with a portioned plate of omelette. It was obvious to the two of them that this conversation was probably not heading in a good direction, as was custom when engaging Rocket.

Rocket scoffed, climbing up to his seat, which he cranked so that he was even with the table. "As if. I ain't even know when I was born, ya dumb-ass."

Rocket seemed unaffected by that fact, as were the rest of the guardians, as they all sat down to eat.

But Peter?

Peter was shocked into silence.

The concept of never celebrating a birthday was horrific to him, even more so, not _knowing_ when it was!

Peter had always had an affinity towards Rocket, and to see him suffer from something so plaguing... Well, that was something that the mighty Star-lord had to remedy!

With a gasp, Peter bolted from the room, a new idea hatching in his mind.

The remaining three (Groot sleeping in Rocket's room, given) glanced up to see him depart but did nothing to stop him, only continuing to eat. They'd gotten used to his sporadic and unexplained absences, which Rocket (bitterly?) theorized as hook-ups.

Little did they know that Peter had a plan.

Part of a plan, anyway.

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><p><strong>This is split up into two parts. It's for a prompt I noticed on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Every Year: Part Two**

No one had seen Peter since that morning. Drax had taken the liberty of putting his omelette in a container to save for later. By the time noon had rolled around, Gamora had taken it upon herself to stop the Milano to refuel.

Rocket, potted-Groot in his hands, and Drax decided to walk around the planet for a little bit, see if there was anything of interest and give the growing tree some light.

"Perhaps we shall find something worthy of gifting to Peter Quill for his birthday," Drax suggested as they browsed the merchant booths.

"I am Groo-oo-oot." Came the agreeable voice of their little friend.

Rocket's tail bushed up at the thought and he rolled his eyes. "That loser? He said he didn't need anythin', so we ain't gettin' him nothin'."

Drax didn't seem off-put by his goal, however, and at some point he purchased a vase.

"A vase?" Rocket huffed. "What's he gonna do with a vase?"

Drax was perplexed by Rocket's questions, however. "It's for his music device." He explained, even though it didn't actually explain anything.

Rocket didn't press any further, and they had just turned back when something caught his eye.

It was nothing huge or special, simply a leather knapsack. He remembered that Peter accidentally tore the strap off of his in a mission a week or so back, and had complained about his man purse being defiled and what-not.

With a reluctant groan, Rocket swiftly lifted the bag from the merchant while he wasn't looking and managed to hide it on his person until they made their way back to the ship. After placing Groot on the dining room table, he stashed the gift under his bed. Rocket decided to give it to Peter anonymously, which would hopefully pin the blame for his gift on Gamora. Not a moment later, he was sulking in his room for giving into his more sentimental, mushier, I-kind-of-like-Quill-but-that's-super-awkward-and-gross side.

After awhile of laying on his blankets with his hands covering his eyes, raking over the fur, Rocket sighed and pushed himself from his bed with a stretch. His implants rubbed against his shirt, which caused a wince, but he otherwise ignored it. Scratching his tailbone, Rocket strolled into the common area with tired eyes.

"SURPRISE!"

And oh, he was surprised.

Rocket outright yelped, jumping backwards as his tail bushed and he skittered backwards a pace or so, before taking in the sight of the room.

From one wall to the other hung a banner that read, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAR-LORD AND ROCKET'. A few balloons bounced lightly on the floor, and to top it off, Quill was in the center of it all, a huge cake in his hands with one single candle in the middle, a bright grin on his face.

If Rocket's heart could have stopped from being flustered, or flattered, or downright shocked or _whatever_ he was feeling at that moment, he might've died right there on the spot. Instead, only one word could come from his mouth.

"...What."

Gamora was sprinkling bits of water on Groot. Across from her was Drax, who was holding a poorly wrapped vase, and the two of them looked at each other with something of mild-disinterest concerning the situation at hand.

Peter, of course, had enough excitement to go around.

"Since it's my birthday, and you've never had a birthday before, I decided I'd share it with you. And now it's like, double birthday. So, surprise Rocket! Happy birthday!" Peter elaborated, his smile growing with each word.

Rocket stared at him for a few moments, still laden with shock as he tried to take in everything that was happening.

"You... Did that... What? You... Did that for..." Rocket felt like he was pushing the words out and pulling them back in all at once, his face heating up as his tail swished from side to side.

"Oh, and I got you a little somethin', too. Figured it's only fair! You should totally get a gift on your first birthday ever, right? So..." Peter stepped forth, placing the cake down on the table and yanking something from his pants pocket.

He placed a gold and red gun in Rocket's hands, smiling brightly at him. It was warm from having been in Peter's pocket, and it smelled just like him.

"This is one of your favorite guns," Rocket practically choked out.

"Yeah-" and did he seem _guilty_ about the fact that he was giving away one of his _favorite_ possessions? "Sorry about that. I mean, I would've gotten you something brand new and all, but there wasn't a lot of time..."

Rocket stared up at him, mesmerized for several moments before he got ahold of himself and cleared his throat. "I... I coulda stolen this from you if I wanted it, y'know."

Peter sent him a wry grin that was punctuated with a wink, which only managed to make Rocket's heart pick up even more. "I know. I'm _giving_ it to you though."

The idea itself was foreign, of being given something for free, just because the other person wanted to, and a goofy smile spread over Rocket's face as he trailed his slender fingers over the metal of the gun.

"Uh," he forced the words from his mouth before he could change his mind. "...Thanks, Quill."

Peter ruffled the fur on his head, and for once, Rocket didn't pull away. "And thank you for the new knapsack."

Rocket sent him a perplexed look. "How..."

Peter leaned in and, against Rocket's sensitive ears, he whispered, "I'll get it from you later tonight, okay?"

Something about his tone was so sultry it sent a shiver down Rocket's entire spine and rendered him momentarily speechless, until Peter stood back up and turned around, clapping his hands together.

"All right, let's eat some cake!" He exclaimed, wooping into the air as Gamora began to section each piece.

In the doorway, Rocket thumbed over Peter's - now his, really - gun, attempting to decipher this new development in whatever was happening with him and Quill. His confusion was shortlived, however, because when Peter sent him a beckoning gaze, Rocket forgot everything on his mind and grinned, drawn into the magnetic field that was his Star-lord.

And no year after that was ever the same.


End file.
